I'm hers and she is mine
by Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: Fury seeks advice and gets in a fight with her future girlfriend. (What do you mean I can't bring blackrom shipping into other fandoms. That's... That's ridculous.)
1. Chapter 1

**I mean technically this _could_ fit into canon.**

 **It also makes War's interactions with Uriel ten times more amusing because you know he's just... Pls, just go to fighting my sister; I don't need this.**

 **I have a thing for Fury two shots tbh I got a suuuper fluffy and cute redrom follow up for this but right now? Strife is a good brother and Fury has it _bad_. And she's totally gonna pick a fight.**

 **Title is from the song Cherry Wine by Hozier, but if you're feelin the femslash I'd recommend the cover by Paola Bennet. She's a fantastic singer and _really_ close to my headcanon Fury voice (just a little too high pitched tbh) **

* * *

"I _hate_ her!" Fury snarls, more worked up than Strife can ever remember seeing his calmest sibling.

He slowly lowers his weapon, deciding target practice can wait until after he figures out what's up. It's not as if he needs it anyway. Millennia of shooting generally makes one a perfect shot. "Who?"

It had started when Fury was tasked with quelling a group of demons keen on harassing the third kingdom, only for her to find Uriel and a small group of the Hellguard already there. The angel seemed surprised at first, and shifted to hostile before Fury explained her mission.

"Oh. Then you have no purpose here, Horseman. We have handled it." She had said, all prim and proper. As if she, this insignificant little angel, has the right to decide when and where _the Horsemen_ are needed.

That was the moment Fury realized how much she abhors Uriel of the White City.

That was also the moment Fury realized how much she'd like to kiss her, and was forced to question where in the nines hells _that_ thought came from.

"Fury?" Strife asks, bringing her back to the present. "Who's earned your wrath, sis?"

"Don't call me that." She responds immediately, continuing her pacing even as Strife pointedly takes a seat. Strife and his human words have been a source of conflict the last few years. He seems to think humans are 'cute', in a patronizing sort of way.

"Yeah, sure. So..." He responds flippantly.

Fury drags a hand through her hair, "...Uriel."

Strife pauses. "The angel?"

"Yes, the angel." She confirms. "I... I hate her, Strife."

"Yes." Strife appears flummoxed when she glances his way, but she can understand why. "So what's different about this hate? As opposed to your hate for me." He should know by now Fury very rarely realizes when people are joking.

She stops in her tracks, bright eyes fixating on her brother. "I don't hate you."

He cracks a smile, "Sometimes you do."

She rolls her eyes. "Sometimes I'd like to punch you, but I do not hate you, Strife. Ever. And besides, what I feel for Uriel is no where comparable to you." At the mention of Uriel, her gentle smile turns into a grimace.

"Care to elaborate?"

Her voice lowers into a whisper, as if she's worried one of the others will hear, "I do not hate her... Platonically."

If he wasn't invested beforehand, he sure is now. " _What_?"

"I don't know, Strife! She's just... So infuriating and gorgeous. I don't know if I want to court her or pick a fight! Perhaps both. And you're the only one I can ask, given the selection."

Strife laughs, the sound cutting off when Fury sends him an icy glare. At she's still herself enough to do that. "Let me get this straight, you're asking _me_ for romantic advice?"

It occurs to him a second too late that perhaps 'straight' wasn't the best word for this situation. Fury probably wouldn't get the joke anyway though. The Watcher's might.

" _Yes_ , Strife. Would you like me to write it out for you? Sign it in my own blood?" She whirls in place and starts pacing again, reverting to her usual state of constant movement. It's worse when she's anxious, he knows. She's really worked up over this.

"That's unnecessary, but thanks for the offer." He snorts. "First things first, you think she feels the same?"

"Well, I would assume so given her habit of going out of her way to irritate me. Or she has exceptional natural talent." Fury smirks a bit at that, although Strife hardly catches it.

"At pissing you off." Strife clarifies. _Exceptional natural talent_ could mean a lot of things, really.

Fury gives him a look that says 'I know what you're thinking'. "Indeed."

"And have you... Purposely angered her in return?" He asks. He doesn't claim to be the best romantic advisor, honestly, but Fury does have a point claiming he's the best option out of the Four. Neither War nor Death would know where to even begin.

"Of course. Once I purposely kept Abaddon for nearly two hours by complaining of Lilith's meddling while she waited oh-so-patiently. She was livid." Fury obviously takes no small amount of pleasure out of that, and Strife is not how to feel.

"Well." He starts, leaning back on his palms. "I... Perhaps the next time you see her you should... Ask her out? Or for a formal, _non lethal_ fight?

Fury falls silent, her steps faltering the tiniest bit. "I would prefer the latter, honestly. And then maybe I will ask her to dinner. After she sees a medic, of course."

"Because you'll kick her ass." Strife laughs, and Fury gifts him with a smile.

"Obviously, brother. What do you take me for?" She clinks her claws together.

 _There's_ the Fury he knows.

* * *

It had taken Fury much longer than she'd like to admit to find time wherein both Uriel and she had nothing better to do, but Strife was a constant motivator. He seems a little too invested, in her opinion, but she's appreciates it nonetheless. She has yet to tell War and Death of her... Crush, and if it doesn't play out she supposes there will be no need to do so.

Uriel was training when the Horseman approached, striding in as if she owns the world. Which, she could, if they weren't bound to inforce the Balance.

Uriel takes notice immediately, but only narrows her eyes curiously.

Fury smirks. "Is this what you spend your downtime on?"

"It is better than what you appear to be doing." Uriel fires back, tightening her grip on her sword. "What are you doing on angelic lands, Horseman?"

"Admiring the fauna." Her grin only widens when Uriel scowls.

"Such loathsome speech is unbefitting of a guardian of the Balance." The angel hisses, her wings spreading out to make her appear larger.

 _Like an angry kitten_ , Fury thinks amusedly. "Do you loathe me then, angel?" She asks, taking a few steps closer.

Uriel, at least, holds her ground. "And what if I do? Are you threatening the WhiteCity?"

"Of course not." Fury smiles disarmingly. "I am here for _you_. To challenge you, more specifically."

"You..." Uriel begins, her voice layered with confusion. "You want a duel? Not for political reasons, but simply because you hate me?"

Admittedly, she appears more understanding than most would be in this situation, with a Horsemen practically propositioning her, but Fury nonetheless takes pride is rendering her speechless for a short time. She smirks, and the angel floats back a bit.

"Indeed." Fury agrees, watching her carefully.

Uriel remains perplexed, her eyebrows pulled together and the cutest (in Fury's opinion) pout on her lips. "Is this a nephilim custom?" She finally asks. "It would not surprise me." Those words have the tiniest amount of disdain, just enough to get Fury mildly irritated without breaking any angel social rules.

"To an extent." She allows with a shrug. "Do you accept?" Her claws clink together, but she keeps her whip on her waist. There will be no need, if all goes to plan. Dismemberment or other serious injuries are not part of the plan.

Uriel takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders. "I do."


	2. Chapter 2

**As much as I love blackrom w/ these two, I also love cutesty stuff so here you are. The fluffy stuff. And nephilim headcanons because why not?**

 **Also I got these gr8 faux leather boots earlier that are total badass boots and... I'm so happy! Can't wait til I get to wear em. It's too cold out right now for anything but fluff lined everything.**

 **Its not even good cuddle weather it's like sloshy.**

 **I love Michigan though.**

* * *

Fury isn't quite sure when her hatred changes, or if it ever really did. There's still that spark of competitiveness and ache to one-up her when she locks eyes with the angel, but sometimes... It's not like that at all.

Sometimes when they've stolen another moment together, and Uriel is smiling so brightly, Fury aches to be better _for_ her, instead of being better than her. She's just so _innocent_ in the strangest of ways, and the Horsemen can't help but wonder what made her think this was a good idea.

She's not even close to being fragile, not in angel terms, and Fury knows this, but compared to the nephilim, to _The Four_ , she is small and delicate. She fits in Fury's embrace easily, silvery hair in disarray and eyes already closing with exhaustion.

"I've missed you." She murmurs, face tilted back to look up at the Horseman.

Fury allows herself a smile, running her thumb over the angel's cheek. "Is that why you appear so keen on falling asleep on me?" She teases.

They're still in the doorway and Uriel has already melted into her arms, although Fury _will_ admit she rather enjoys the lack of armor encasing her angel. Armor, while necessary for most, does tend to get in the way of physical affection.

Uriel's eyes flutter open, and the effect of her glare is lost. "Abaddon has been... Acting strangely lately. Putting more responsibility on me, and I am not quite sure why." She admits, obviously perturbed.

Fury blinks, mentally filing that away. There have been rumblings among demons lately, of Samael looking to usurp the throne, perhaps that is what has Abaddon so unnerved. She will ask Death. After Uriel is forced to return to her duties, which hopefully won't be for a few days.

They both hate having to sneak around, honestly, but the WhiteCity wouldn't approve of their union in the slightest and Uriel abides the law without question. If the angels forbid their courtship there is no question that Uriel would cut contact with the nephilim, regardless of how painful it would be.

Thankfully Fury is allowed to be much more open about her relationship, seeing as the Council doesn't care about their Horsemen's love lives and her brothers are sworn to secrecy. The only thing Fury has to worry about is Strife trying to get a rise out of her at an inopportune time, but that's unlikely.

The only thing she has to fear is time, as the EndWar is bound to be soon (at least to the millennia old Horseman), and they both have their duties.

"Fury?" Uriel says suddenly, raising an eyebrow.

"I apologize." The nephilim answers quickly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I was... Thinking."

Uriel snorts. "And what has you so distracted, _my dearest_?" There's an edge in her endearment, half mocking and half sincere.

"You." Fury laughs, dropping her arms. "Come along. We shouldn't stand in the doorway all day. Especially when you're so tired."

The angel huffs. "As if anyone would find us here."

She has a point, Fury must admit. She selected this location just because of that. "Nonetheless." She says, grabbing Uriel's hand and pulling her into the home.

Uriel's eyes light up when they reach the bedroom, and she collapses into the bed without another word. She buries herself in the blankets while her girlfriend watches on, eyebrows raised in amusement. "You weren't exaggerating."

"I am _exhausted_." Uriel responds, glancing around the rest of the room curiously. There's not much, truthfully. Fury sees no need to decorate, and its not as if she owns much. Before, the nephilim were constantly moving and keepsakes were few and far between. Now it just seems... Worthless to hold onto such things, despite Fury's knack for finding valuables.

She wouldn't protest if Uriel wanted a ring or something similar though. To remember her by, after she returns to heaven and Fury to the Council. It would have to be small, or something not interfering with her armor.

 _Do angels pierce their ears?_ Fury wonders, knowing that would be the easiest. It was common for nephilim to wear earrings, usually studs of precious gemstones. Fury herself used to have many, but now only wears a few when the urge arises. She thinks Strife still has a pair too, although she cannot for the life of her remember where he got them.

She looks down at Uriel contemplatively. She would look in good anything, truthfully, but it is a question of what would look _best_.

Her hair is a mess now, bangs carelessly falling into her golden eyes. Her unarmored wings are pressed close to her back, but uncovered by the blanket and glowing in the lowlight. Fury has always been fascinated by that. Angel's wings seem to reflect even the slightest light, resulting in an ethereal glow at all times. Even being made of angel dust, none of the nephilim ever displayed such a trait.

Their eyes do tend to glow though. Fury mentally files that away under "things to consider when Uriel is not looking so kissable".

The angel is question's lips quirk when she realizes Fury is staring. "Are you going to be joining me then?" She asks quietly. "Or do you have important Horsemen duties to attend to?"

Fury simply rolls her eyes and settles down next to her. "You're horrible." Her tone is light, despite the statement, and Uriel decides to forgive her as she pulls her into her arms.

"How you flatter me." She hmphs, only to pause.

As if reading her mind, Fury smirks and asks, "Was that sarcasm? Perhaps you've been spending too much time with me, angel."

"And yet not nearly enough." She responds.

"Oh?" Fury hums. "Don't you have enough angels trying to court you, Lady Uriel of the Hellguard?"

Uriel freezes, her lips trembling as she tries her hardest to not laugh, only to collapse on of herself in a fit of giggles.

Fury smiles with absolute joy, taking in the rare sight of her lover completely unguarded. She rarely allows herself to be so carefree, even away from the prying eyes if the WhiteCity.

 _"L-Lady Uriel._ " She repeats breathlessly. "Trust me, Fury, you have no one to worry about in that regard."

Fury snickers. "Angel's must have worse taste than I assumed then."

"Or you're the only one scarier than myself." She responds.

The nephilim has to agree they are both rather scary, tracing the marks decorating her love's forehead with her finger tips. "Speaking of angels..." She begins, tucking Uriel's hair behind her ears. It doesn't look like her ears are pierced, unfortunately.

She lifts a brow.

"Do your kind typically pierce their ears?" Fury asks, right to the point.

"Oh. Well, not usually. I've heard it's quite common among certain sects." She tilts her head, moving to brush Fury's hair out of the way. "Do you..." She stops, taking in the studs decorating the inner conch of Fury's ear. Four on each side. "May I?"

"Of course." Fury laughs, tilting her face so she can get a better look at them.

"Does it hurt?" Uriel asks curiously, prodding at the highest stud.

Fury twists one between her fingers and Uriel flinches. "Not at all." She assures her. "It did when they were done, but I have had many years to heal. Cartilage is more painful, similar to breaking a bone." From what she remembers, at least.

Uriel exhales, pouting. "Why did you ask, in any case?"

"I was... Wondering if you would accept earrings." Fury admits, suddenly very interested in her own hands. "We could even match, if you'd like."

Uriel bites down on her bottom lip, falling silent. "...maybe. Allow me some time to consider it." She finally decides.

"Of course. I wouldn't want you to regret it." Fury responds easily, although her words have more layers than even Uriel can decipher. She presses a kiss to her cheek before the angel can begin to question it and murmurs, "You planned on resting, did you not?"

"Goodness, yes." She agrees, stretching out completely and burying her face in the nearest pillow. She pulls Fury down with her when she doesn't immediately move, and the Horseman carefully lies next to her. Uriel immediately moves closer, pressing herself against Fury. She covers her wings with the blanket this time, keeping them drawn close, and the longest feathers tickle Fury's legs.

"Comfy?" Fury asks, tucking her girlfriend under her chin.

She can feel Uriel make a pleased humming noise in return, apparently too tired to use actual words. "Warm." She mumbles after a moment, sleep slurring her words. She was always one to fall asleep quickly, while it takes Fury hours of convincing herself there's nothing to worry about before she can relax.

It seems that's the case today also, with Fury lying awake long after Uriel falls asleep. She hardly moves in her sleep, her level breathing and tight grip the only indicators she's alive.

Fury cards her fingers through her silver hair, smiling softly. _She is safe,_ Fury assures herself. There is no need for her to fret over Uriel's safety, not yet.


End file.
